


Dear Diary

by samyazaz



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Diary/Journal, Epistolary, M/M, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 04:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samyazaz/pseuds/samyazaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's nothing weird about Merlin writing a diary. At least not until the diary starts writing back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Diary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady_ragnell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ragnell/gifts).



It’s _supposed_ to be a personal blog, a 21st century diary, meant for his eyes alone. Merlin's not an idiot -- he's careful to go through the blog's settings and enable the option that keeps the blog from being indexed by search engines, and then he locks it all down just to be safe, so no one without the password can even see he's posting, much less read his entries.

Despite all that, it's only a month until he pulls up his inbox one day and finds he has an email. The subject reads _A New entry has been posted to Dear Diary_ , and Merlin almost shoots it straight into the spam box because he hasn't posted yet today, and so what else could it be?

He hesitates first, though, and then engages every virus blocker known to man before he opens the email. Just to be safe, he tells himself. He just wants to check the sender's domain, because if it's some sort of phishing scam he can put the domain on his blacklist and be done with it.

The link inside seems to point straight to his blog, though. It's the right address (he checks the spelling three times, just to be certain), but just to be safe, Merlin types the address in himself in a different window. He waits for the page to load, dubious, certain that it's just going to come up with yesterday's entry and then Merlin will know for sure that it's spam of some sort or another, and he can send it safely on his way.

That's not what happens, though. What happens is that the blog loads, and the most recent entry, there at the very top of the screen, has _Dear Merlin_ as the subject line.

Merlin nearly knocks his mouse onto the floor. He rescues it and then scrolls down slowly to read the whole entry.

It isn't long, and if it's some sort of scam, Merlin doesn't know what they're trying to sell, because all it says is, _Loved your last entry. Hope you're not giving up on me already? Please write soon. The internet is a lonely place for an abandoned blog._

Merlin stares at it for several long minutes. Is this some sort of easter egg built into the blogging platform? A tongue-in-cheek way the coders have come up with to try to encourage infrequent users to keep blogging? Some strange new sort of spambot?

He writes back, half feeling like a giant rube and half thrilled by the mystery of the whole thing. He writes:

_Dear Diary,_

_Who the fuck are you?_

_No love,  
Merlin_

because he can't help himself. And then he puts it from his mind, secure in his certainty that whatever this is, it's just some sort of spam or bot, and it's certainly not sentient, and it's definitely not going to respond.

The next morning, he wakes up to another email notification that a new entry has been posted while he slept. He pulls up the blog, shaking his head at the surreality of it all.

_Dear Merlin,_

__**di·a·ry** noun \ˈdī-(ə-)rē\  
1\. a record of events, transactions, or observations kept daily or at frequent intervals : journal; especially : a daily record of personal activities, reflections, or feelings  
2\. a book intended or used for a diary 

_synonyms: daybook, journal, confidante_

_Honestly, I didn't think you'd have such trouble with the concept._

_Sincerely,  
Your Diary_

Merlin is left sputtering, gaping, because not only is his diary talking back to him, his diary is _rude_. He lets it sit for two days, unable to decide on a response, and in the end, he decides that the only possible course of action is to ignore it, the way you would a misbehaving child. Whatever this is, it's clearly looking for a reaction, so Merlin refuses to give it one. He writes his next entry as though nothing has happened at all, as though none of those exchanges ever existed, as though this is still his own private journal meant for his eyes alone.

His diary writes him back again, a straightforward response to his entry. _That pho sounds like it was delicious. I wish I could try it, but I think it'd get my pixels all soggy. Have a bowl for me next time you're there! And don't let Professor Kilgarrah get you down, I hear he's a cryptic asshole like that to everybody._

Merlin does not have the _foggiest idea_ what the hell is going on, but it's making his life feel a little bit magical, so he shakes his head in bemusement and opens up the Compose Entry screen to write back.

For half a semester it goes on like this, Merlin and his diary exchanging secret correspondence that Merlin doesn't dare tell anyone about because he's half convinced it's some sort of elaborate hallucination and if it is, he doesn't want to have to come back to reality. Sometimes he'll be sprawled on the couch with his laptop on his stomach, laughing over a joke in his diary's latest entry, and his flatmate Arthur will stop as he wanders by with a bowl of noodles and demand, "What's so funny?", and Merlin will have to just shake his head and wave a hand vaguely and say, "Oh, nothing, it's the internet, you know. Someone made a new lolcat."

And that, thankfully, is usually enough to chase Arthur off, because if there's one thing in the world Arthur doesn't get, it's the mass appeal of those stupid cat pictures.

Sometimes, his diary's entries are brief and cursory, like his diary just jotted down a quick note between pressing engagements. Sometimes, his diary continues the theme of snarky bastardom until Merlin wants to reach through the tubes of the internet and strangle it. Sometimes they have long, thoughtful exchanges that leave Merlin staring dumbly at his computer screen, thinking vaguely, _I may have a bit of a problem here_.

They're smack in the middle of finals week, with all the craziness that entails, when Merlin stumbles out of his bedroom, harried and unshowered, and asks Arthur if he can borrow his laptop because Merlin's has decided it needs a system restart and he so does not have time to waste waiting for it to reboot, he's still got most of a fifty-page article on contemporary anthropological theories to finish reading, and before Merlin's even halfway through rattling off the article's tongue-twisting title, Arthur groans, "Christ, for fuck's sake, here, take it," and shoves his iPad at Merlin with a grimace.

Merlin snatches it out of his hands and runs back to his bedroom to finish taking the rest of his notes. When he unlocks the screen, though, there's already a Safari window pulled up, and Merlin's blood runs cold because _he knows that site scheme_ , that's his fucking blog layout. A popup box is open over it, and it says, _you are currently logged in as: dearmerlin. Are you sure you'd like to log out? You will not be able to view this journal's locked content. yes / no_

Merlin stares at it for what feels like an hour, but probably can't be much more than five minutes. And then he slides off his bed and stalks out to the living room, where Arthur is eating pizza on the couch, and he throws the iPad at Arthur's face. " _Are you kidding me?_ "

Arthur looks at the iPad, its screen still unlocked, still waiting for Arthur's response. His face goes grey and he sets the half-eaten slice of pizza down on the coffee table. "Merlin, look--"

'Are you _fucking kidding me?_ " Merlin demands again, and climbs up over Arthur's lap and drags him into a furious kiss while he's still sputtering. When he finally lets go of Arthur's collar and lets him pull away, they're both gasping for breath, both wide-eyed and staring. Merlin smacks his fists against Arthur's shoulders. "I have been wanting to do that for _months_. I thought you were some sort of _troll_."

"Er. Sorry?" Arthur says, looking at sea.

"God, shut up," Merlin groans. "We've wasted enough time already." And he drags Arthur back into another, longer kiss.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Dear Diary](https://archiveofourown.org/works/993673) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton)




End file.
